After reaching an agreement, Gilles mounted his horse again as the soldier turned away from us. 30 days.. I hope that's enough. I turned to Reynald abruptly.
"We only have 30 days, and then we need to scram. Is there a way to open a rift to a different era?"
He just grins at me; it seems he already knows what to do. Now is not the time for that. I turned to the soldiers and kept up with them. One thing still isn't clear to me: what is my burden as an author?
The walk to the nearest town was lengthy yet quiet; a shiver runs down my spine as if something or someone is watching us from afar. Whatever it is, I don't want to find out.
After a long walk, we finally arrived at the front gate of a town, Orleans. I wonder if the infamous maid is around. If I'm not wrong, this was the exact date when Orleans was liberated by the saint.
"This is the nearest town to us as of now. Some accommodations were burned and destroyed. But since you're neither a guest nor a foe, suit yourself."
Gilles said, It seems that not even civil infrastructures in this era are safe from impending destruction.
"Sir Gilles, pardon me. But have you seen Jeanne?'
I asked, part of me wants to meet the legend herself, but at the same time, I remember that we're currently at war with the Britain regime.
"Jeanne? What business do you have with the sister? Has her name reached Paris so fast?"
I nodded, of course, it would be weird for someone who claims to be from Paris to have ever heard of the Maid of Orleans when they're miles away.
"I.. see.. That's unexpected, I can't imagine a messenger from Orleans would reach Paris in a day. But then again, I'm proud that our dirty job here received recognition."
He had his suspicion, but hopefully the lies will do me a favor this time.
"I have to return to the front gate. I permit you to wander around the market. But be warned, we have eyes in this town, I'll be watching you."
Gilles tugged at the rein on the horse's neck as the horse galloped away from us, disappearing into the distance. I look at Reynald, his army crossed above his chest.
"What's the purpose of bringing us here?"
He grinned and walked over to me.
"Well, first of all, as a Timeless Author, we are to change the fate of this world to how we seem fit. Of course, I didn't intentionally bring you here; the rift takes us to a random location and time."
He pulled out the gospel from his bag again.
"And as to your earlier question, this book is the key to summoning a rift. It's simple — write the sacred creed, and the scripture will do the rest."
Sacred creed? And what could that be? The Timeless Authors, sharing but the same creed, perhaps.. I've already written the creed before.
"You said we can change fate to how we seem fit. Tell me, what does fit mean to you?"
Reynald let out a sigh. He leaned against a wooden porch. His eyes bored into mine.
"To me, there's no singularity for an ideal fate. But I think we can change fate to assert justice that has been lost."
I crossed my arms, and I raised an eyebrow in suspicion.
"And that is?"
His expression turns serious, his confidence cracking slightly. For a moment, he seemed hesitant to let it out.
"The martyred saint, we can change her fate."
He pointed between me and him. My eyes widened as I grasped the implication of his words, changing history for the better. It's tempting, but is it really possible? I looked at him from top to bottom, yet there's no sign of deception.
—Penning a new chapter…